Category: Think About It!

Now it’s time for some deep thoughts.

Mmmm, Candy Hearts 20

February 14, 2026

BE MINE

I belong to no one.

LET’S HANG

So we’re meeting at midnight at the tree?

4 EVER

Nah, we’d just get sick of each other.

Once again, it’s Valentine’s Day. The saint’s feast day where those with partners are encouraged to act on their mutual attractions, and those without are assumed to be bitter about it. I guess not that different from the rest of the year, come to think of it.

We sure do place a lot of expectations and importance on the whole thing. Such that the acquisition of a suitable partnered scenario is tied to happiness, identity, and even inherent self-worth.

Is this partner of yours of your same gender? Now that’s your whole identity, complete with all the homophobic garbage that comes with it.

Are you a woman married to a man? You may now have his last name, because, regardless of anything else in your life, being this dude’s wife is now your whole identity.

Are you having too much sex? Slut. Too little sex? Prude.

Unless you’re having the exact correct amount and frequency of sex according to “experts”, your relationship is doomed.

Polyamorous? What, are you just unfaithful or irresponsible?

Monogamous? What, are you just uptight and jealous?

Whoa, wait, what is that you’re up to? Is that… a kink?!

Bisexual or asexual? Pfft, that’s not a thing, you just want attention!

No partner? Not only assumed to be bitter about it, on a day like today or whenever, but if you’re not, let’s make damn sure you are. Or even turn it around, to assume any unhappiness or negativity must stem from said lack.

Are you an angry rightwing shithead? They’ll call you an “incel”, for “involuntarily celibate”, regardless of what your actual history or activity may be. Since apparently that’s an acceptable basis of insult rather than, say, the fucked up rightwing views.

Are you recently out of a rough marriage? Enjoy your “divorced” status getting equated with “sad” or “pathetic” for the rest of your days.

Nevermind the prevalence of abusive or otherwise detrimental romantic/sexual relationships. So many still seem stuck on the “happy ever after” myth despite reality providing galaxies of evidence to the contrary.

Surely there’s better uses of time and energy. Is it so hard to just do away with the judgment and scrutiny, to agree that as long as everyone involved is fully freely consenting and at least a few years past puberty then whatever is or isn’t happening is fine and not anyone else’s concern?

I guess not today.

Let’s see…

DATE NIGHT

Yeah, that’s what the calendar dictates.

YOU & ME

It is just you and me right now, candy heart. About to be just me.

BESTIE

Hey, no friend zone complaints from me. This is actually better.

Pride and Groom

May 4, 2025

Throughout human history, LGBTQ+ people have been existing and minding their business. They’re told they must love and partner with someone of the opposite sex, and they’re like “nah, I’ll take a same sex one”. They’re told they are the gender assigned at birth, and they’re like “nah, I’m a different one”. They’re like “I’m into same and different gender” or “I’m into no one of any gender“. Breaking the confines of the imaginary social construct that is gender. Badass.

And a wedge issue.

A library might host a drag queen reading a story to children. Then that library gets death threats.

JK Rowling was once a beloved author with a massive fandom and goodwill that most would give all of their limbs for. Then she decided to throw all that away because she’d rather be a transphobic piece of shit.

Are schoolchildren subjected to gender reassignment procedures at the school nurse’s office? Of course not, that’s absurd. So absurd that the Orange Thing sure enough spouted that claim on the campaign trail last year.

And we push back on all that. The lies. The hate. The idea that whether someone’s pronouns “match” what’s in their pants is anyone’s business, let alone a reason to exclude or vilify someone.

But what about the children, they say? Surely we can’t have children finding out about this stuff and getting any ideas that they might not be the gender assigned at birth.

After all, doesn’t all this homophobic and transphobic garbage become totally fine and acceptable as long as they pretend the real goal is to protect children, that they focus on children, on protecting them from “sexualization”, from “grooming”?

What is grooming?

Grooming refers to the practice of gaining a child’s trust and undermining their trust in others for the purpose of abusing them. They are manipulated into trusting someone who seeks to take advantage of them, and they are left with lasting mental health issues, among other things being made to feel it was their own fault and having lost their ability to trust others at all.

So, naturally, reactionary dipshits are weaponizing this concept as a means of curtailing youth and LGBTQ+ rights, by claiming that affirming a trans child’s identity is somehow in itself an act of sexual abuse, of “grooming”, rather than genuine support.

Which, I don’t know, kind of feels a bit manipulative and like a form of grooming in and of itself?

Oh, but it’s out of concern, right? There’s no such thing as a trans child, they say. If a child is trans, it’s only because their parents or other adults have made them to be. Really they’re the ones protecting the child’s rights then, from this “gender ideology” being “forced” upon them.

That’s funny. Even if we pretend for a moment any of that nonsense is true, where the hell are any of these people literally any other time parents or other adults are forcing a child into something?

And that’s obviously not what they believe. In fact, if the parents in these cases were forcing this on their children, I doubt these people would have much problem with it. With a trans adult, yeah, these people are still shitty about it, but at the end of the day, they might have to concede that as an adult it’s their own life and business. But a child coming out as trans, freely, confidently, with support from loved ones? That’s what’s terrifying.

What about the grooming? What about children being manipulated and coerced by a malevolent adult who seeks to take advantage of them to satisfy their own questionable intentions? Or at the very least being primed to be more vulnerable to such a predator?

Well…
Continue reading “Pride and Groom”

Mmmm, Candy Hearts 19

February 14, 2025

“XOXO”

Tic-tac-toe?

“CUTIE”

Aw thanks… oh, wait, you were talking about yourself, little candy heart? Awkward.

Another Valentine’s Day is upon us. The romantically involved make sure to be especially involved today, in order to maintain said involvement. And why not? Doesn’t hurt to do nice things for each other.

What does hurt are the, well, not-nice things.

Sometimes relationships (romantic and otherwise) turn bad, or maybe they were bad from the start. It might not have been obvious at first, or perhaps obvious to everyone except the one involved in it, but it became clear before long… this person you’re with is treating you like shit and you don’t deserve it.

So you get out. And you look back and wonder… how on earth did you not see it? How could you have been so clueless? Of course this person was terrible. There were so many red flags, and you missed them all.

Maybe you have others in your life who saw those red flags and tried to warn you. Maybe if you had listened to them earlier you’d have saved yourself so much grief, so much hurt, so much lost time. Maybe they are thinking this. While they might seem sympathetic to you now, they are secretly (or openly) wondering “if you’d just listened to me, you idiot…”. And you feel more and more ashamed.

How could you have let this happen? How didn’t you see it? Are you just not that bright?

I’ve got three words for you.

Fuck. That. Shit.

Interesting how the abusive partner is out of the picture at this point but the shame and anguish remain.

It may be tricky to advise people on how to spot relationship toxicity in such a way that doesn’t imply “and if you stay despite this, you’re a dumbass”. We want to believe we have more control than we do, that we can avoid pitfalls if we just make all the right moves and not make mistakes, if we know the signs and act accordingly.

But that is not real life. While for sure there are things one can watch out for and avoid, all in all there is no immunity to this. These things happen. Being in love can make those red flags invisible.

In fact, if anyone is in fact getting on their high horse like “I told you they were bad news but you didn’t leave!”, this too is abusive behavior. They’re more interested in elevating themself than being supportive.

They deserve to get whacked a few times with a tire iron, right there alongside the abusive partner and anyone who decides to frame all this as some sort of life learning experience.

You know who would never shame you for not leaving a bad relationship sooner?

That’s right…

“LOVE U”

What is it about the letter U that I should love?

“HUG ME”

Will do. With my teeth.

Arguments and Failed Attempts to Fly

January 24, 2025

Two years ago today, my dad died.

The days that followed I was reeling with anger and approximately 37 other indescribable feelings and traits, such that I voluntarily went back to work after only two days of bereavement leave mostly just for something else to pay attention to, shocking my coworkers with my unexpectedly early return and with occasional remarks like “yeah, I’d have taken care of that sooner but my stupid dad had to go and die”, leading to me getting self-conscious that I wasn’t “performing grief” correctly.

In the time since, as events personal and global unfolded, there was getting used to that he wasn’t around anymore to offer whatever probably-terrible take he had about things. I might think to remark to him about something, perhaps to gripe about the Nationals (in fact, my very last text message to him was bemoaning that Trea Turner went to the Phillies), and then remember. That time is over. Other than standing over his grave and saying “so anyway Juan Soto went to the Yankees because of course he did”.

Among all that, one thought has kept coming back to me. I’ve thought back, over all the years of my life, all the things he’d ever said he wanted to do someday. Much of it he gave up on long ago. Others he would still have liked but circumstances caused him to give up much hope of it.

But now. None of it would ever happen. He reached his end.

Along with the huge loss itself, that a major piece of life is suddenly just… not there anymore, comes that even greater awareness of mortality.

So much he had wanted to do, and so little of it ever happened. Of what I knew about anyway.

How much can any of us hope to accomplish all we hope to someday, regardless of circumstances or feasibility?

The common saying is that one must “live life to the fullest”. Which is of course a bullshit sentiment. And the ghosts agree.

My dad did not “live life to the fullest” or “cherish every moment” or “make every day count”, whatever the hell any of that even means. He had goals over the years, and some of them he achieved, many he did not. What was he doing instead? Nothing special. Just… life. Daily routine, just like everyone else. But it’s one often filled with guilt and shame, because it’s just routine, nothing special. We create impossible standards for a Life Well Lived, which is a surefire way to make sure no one feels they’ve amounted to anything.

Even so, we like to feel like there’s some purpose to our lives, that our brief time in this universe made some sort of difference. Beyond what’s already necessarily the case anyway, like all of our interactions with others throughout that life, all the biological and chemical processes our bodies contained and performed.

We feel like there has to be more. We go about our lives and run into trouble and obstacles. Our relationships sour. Our dreams go unfulfilled or, if they are fulfilled, aren’t as great as we thought. There must be something better. There must be a reason. Because if not, why bother with anything? If whatever hard won joy or success is so fleeting or ultimately overrated?

Kind of makes you want to just stay in bed all day eating cookies.

Maybe the surest way to waste one’s life is to worry about wasting it.

I don’t want to say “it’s the little things that matter” or anything to that effect, since that’s ridiculous, too. As is any nonsense about being “happy”. Maybe it’s just a matter of claiming the good stuff when and where you can, since life, for all its precious brevity, will make even that a challenge.

My dad did often list a handful of things he was always proud of, including:

1. He was able to quit smoking.

2. He correctly guessed that it was Maggie who shot Mr. Burns.

I guess it’s something.

Where Are You Getting Your Information?

December 28, 2024

See there? Floating facedown in the swimming pool?

Yup. That’s my country.

You’re probably wondering how we got to this point.

So am I.

Let’s back up a bit.

In early 2020, I started writing a post that never got finished or published about the Democratic primary going on at the time. There were many decent candidates with ambitious and popular ideas. But we were lowkey shamed for supporting any of that, that in order to oust the Orange Thing we had to play it safe and go boring and steady, and that was Joe Biden and not Bernie Sanders or Elizabeth Warren.

It seemed to me a losing strategy, so typical of the party. After all, the Orange Thing had an excited base that got him elected. So did Barack Obama. Hillary Clinton did not have one as much, and that plus a lot of baggage she has led to her upset loss in 2016. And Joe Biden? Not very interesting or exciting at all. Plus, with Covid showing up by this point, couldn’t host big rallies anyway.

So because he was so deemed “electable”, Biden got the nomination, so that was the choice.

Lo and behold, after lots of counting the following November, Biden narrowly won Pennsylvania the Saturday after Election Day and was declared the winner, freeing us from the Orange Thing at long last, prompting dancing in the streets in cities around the nation. He was boring as can be, but it was an unusual time and situation where that was the winning trait against the shitshow that was his tangerine-hued opponent.

Perhaps then 2016 was just a mistake, a miscalculation, an anomaly. The Orange Thing was so actively repulsive there was no way he could win, and Clinton seemed so clearly more qualified, that she was a lock. Then, well, you know…

When he was out after the 2020 election, as we know, the Orange Thing denied the loss, declared fraud, and sent his rabid followers to attack the Capitol, leading to his second impeachment just a little over a year after the first. This failed, so he wasn’t blocked from running for president again.

Which he did. He sailed through the primaries, well on his way to pulling a Grover Cleveland given Biden’s abysmal approval ratings, with little opposition from Ron DeSantis and Nikki Haley who promptly turned around and kissed his ass and thanked him for his disparaging nicknames for them.

Biden was seeming, well, old, but still doing his job. Then the June debate happened, and he was seeming really old. Nancy Pelosi, who’s even older but in Congress so it doesn’t matter, ran some behind the scenes maneuvering urging him out of reelection. And in July, the switch happened, and now the candidate was the younger, sharper, popular Kamala Harris. A campaign that felt irredeemably dead on its feet sprang to life, as hope came through that we had a capable, exciting candidate, to move past the Biden shortcomings and bring us something new. The Orange Thing didn’t stand a chance.

She walloped him in the debate. The convention was vibrant. Her campaign tore through the battleground states, making her case, knocking on doors, running shit tons of ads about how she’ll improve the economy and take on greed. She was likable. Her rallies packed arenas. She appeared on SNL.

Unlike Clinton’s and Biden’s runs, she hit all the right notes. A candidate the voters were enthusiastic about, who could energize the base and swing voters alike. She was a break from the mold, from the old guard. A breath of fresh air.

The Orange Thing, meanwhile, was rambling incoherently about pet-eating Haitians and Arnold Palmer’s penis at his poorly-attended rallies, with his get-out-the-vote efforts amounting to Elon Musk’s legally-questionable scheme of offering large sums of money to people who claim to support (his own interpretations of) the first and second amendments. And he is, after all, only three years younger than the too-old-to-be-president Joe Biden.

The polls inexplicably showed them tied, with her having a slight but statistically insignificant lead. And one renowned-for-accuracy one even had her winning Iowa? Incredible!

So it seems all the pieces are more or less together for this one to go well…

And then it didn’t. At all.
Continue reading “Where Are You Getting Your Information?”

Easter: The Final Battle

March 31, 2024

How does the story go?

He was crucified, died, and a couple days later he rose again, showed off his badass crucifixion scars to his doubting disciples, and rose on up to heaven to, per Nicene Creed, be “seated at the right hand of the father”.

Thus we celebrate with bunnies and eggs.

Something is missing. Something feels incomplete. Is that all there is to it?

Definitely not. And I’ll tell you what it is…

After his slow horrific death, Jesus first went down to hell, where all dead souls since the beginning of time were trapped. An epic battle with Satan ensued, from which Jesus emerged victorious, believing he’d at last fulfilled his destiny and destroyed evil. So he invited all the souls to ascend with him to heaven. He stopped by earth again on the way to see his friends real quick and celebrate his victory, instructing them to go forth and spread the word of what has happened. And then he ascended to heaven for good.

This much we know. But what happens next?

Jesus arrives in heaven with all the souls he just freed. God sees this and says “Very good, my son. Now come be seated beside me.”

But suddenly Jesus pauses, and any feeling of triumph he had was washed away. And he asks himself what might have been a dangerous question. What exactly was all this for? Why did everything, his becoming human and suffering through crucifixion and everything else, have to happen in the first place?

The realizations came upon him all at once. Before him was so-called Almighty God, his heavenly father, creator of all, omnipotent. As he, Jesus, had just battled Satan, the embodiment of evil who was condemning all souls to eternal suffering until this point. Why was God allowing Satan to keep those souls trapped in hell at all? If he really wanted them freed before this, he could have done so. How did his excruciating crucifixion in itself absolve any sins, when God could have just decided to forgive anything he wanted at any time?

Jesus at long last sees the truth about the being before him. It was all entertainment for God. It was all manipulation for his own amusement. Perhaps his executioners were the ones who killed him on the cross. Perhaps it was Satan who was tormenting the dead souls. But it was God who orchestrated the whole thing. And he’d been his loyal pawn through it all.

So, against everything he’d been and believed up until this point, Jesus said no to God. And then the true final battle ensued.

Just as Cronus overthrew Uranus, and then Zeus overthrew Cronus, it was time for Jesus to overthrow God.

And he did. And he became God.

Although he lacked his father’s omnipotence, he became a sympathetic God who had already spent 33 years as a human and understood what it was like in a way his father never cared to. He was also uninterested in being worshiped and glorified. All he expected of people was to be good to one another and live their best lives. He wanted all people to be free from oppression, whether human or divine.

And it is this freedom we celebrate today with bunnies and eggs. Freedom from an oppressive manipulative deity, from religious restriction and sacrifice.

But it was before all this concluded that Jesus told his disciples to go forth and spread the word. He was unable to update them, and so incomplete information spread around about him and what he wanted. He had to watch with dismay as, rather than being good to one another and living their best lives, people hurt and oppressed and killed one another supposedly in his name. Churches sprang up exploiting his name and his crucifixion just to amass power for themselves. The cross on which he was brutally murdered had become a symbol to these people, believing this suffering was for them, when, as Jesus himself had to come to terms with, there was absolutely no point or value in the crucifixion, that in itself it was just another senseless execution in a world that commits far too many of them. And his so-called followers were looking and acting a lot more like his executioners than his disciples.

That’s why we never hear about the final battle. Not only did it happen after his ascent, but churches aren’t exactly going to be telling people that their very existence is against what Jesus wanted. It’s in their interest to say Jesus remains God’s dutiful subordinate for eternity, that only those who believe in him in some very specific way are saved while all others are doomed. That’s how they amass power and wealth.

That’s why, as we celebrate today with bunnies and eggs and botanical gardens, this holiest day of the Christian calendar might well be a simultaneous rejection of Christianity. Where we celebrate the absolution of sins not because of the unjust torture and murder of a demigod a couple millennia ago but because his later victory removed the very concept of sin. Or, hell, just because the whole idea of sin is ridiculous anyway.

That’s how I’ve celebrated Easter for the past fifteen years or so now. At first, I figured I was just being ironic. I have marzipan or similarly flavored treats for Easter because of a scene in the His Dark Materials trilogy, where Mary Malone tells a story of how she gave up religion after taking a bite of marzipan and prompting a flood of memories and the realization there was no point or benefit to anyone in her living under pious restrictions and denying herself a rich and full life. That and Rush’s “Freewill” has become a sort of Easter anthem for me. Some people have been puzzled that, despite pulling away from Christianity, I still celebrate Easter at all. And, yes, I do celebrate Easter, but its meaning for me has changed.

It more recently it occurred to me that, though I don’t have any desire to return to Christianity (whatever that would entail), even from a Christian perspective this reinvented Easter still works, if one wanted to stick to what Jesus would actually want, in acknowledging his triumph over a sadistic god, in setting us and even himself free. But, of course, he wouldn’t want that. Christian or not, the idea is the same.

Be good to each other. Live your best life. Eat some Cadbury eggs.

Happy Easter!

Mmmm, Candy Hearts 18

February 14, 2024

BE MINE

Don’t be so possessive.

CALL ME

Call? Like… on the phone?! Ain’t no one worth that!

Alright, it’s Valentine’s Day. I skipped last year, but here’s one of these once again.

I think I’ll pick on Stranger Things for the moment. Or not so much “pick on” but this exchange from Season 3 jumps out at me.

Mike: What did you think, really? That we were never gonna get girlfriends? That we were just going to sit in my basement all day and play games for the rest of our lives?
Will: Yeah, I guess I did. I really did.

I guess the intended reaction here is something like “aww, these kids are growing up, putting away childish things, etc.” and that Will Byers, while you feel bad for him, will understand soon enough.

Screw that. He has the right idea.

Spending all day with friends working on something fun and creative, like the RPGs they play? Hell yeah! That is absolutely something you want to maintain as long as you can.

But Mike was pulling away from that due to his relationship with Eleven. Which I guess is supposed to be a sign of maturity, that romantic relationships must be the priority.

As must familial relationships. In fact, the importance placed on (cis-het) romantic relationships is part of it, in that it would involve pairing up with someone the family approves of, of the same culture or religion or race, so that they will make babies who will continue that family line and that culture or religion or race.

As such, platonic friendships get deprioritized, those friends less important than family or romantic partners. You’re told those relationships will come and go, that family will always be there. Which is a load of bullshit, of course. And it’s usually members of your family who try to instill “nothing is more important than family” into you, so you can see the conflict of interest.

Friendships are chosen by the individual due to mutual interest and affection. There’s no familial bonds or hormones running the show. Because of this, they are considered less important because they’d likely break apart easily. But actually that’s what makes them superior. This relationship wasn’t chosen for you by birth. You don’t want to have sex with them (necessarily). You just both enjoy each other’s company and find each other comforting and fun, and that is goddamn wonderful.

Sure, as life throws changes at you, friends can drift apart as their common bond stretches and weakens. But that absolutely happens with familial and romantic relationships, too. That’s not an indication of a relationship’s importance. That’s just life.

In fact, because a platonic friendship is expected to be fleeting, while familial and serious romantic relationships are expected to go on for life (complete with undeserved shame and erasure when they don’t), it’s perhaps more impressive and special when they do last a long time.

I guess these damn hearts seem like they’ve lasted a long time, too. Don’t know how impressive that is.

TRUE LOVE

Yikes. Let’s get to know each other better first?

NO WAY

My thoughts exactly.

A Big Sphere

January 1, 2024

Sometime ago, I was staying late at work for a meeting scheduled to accommodate three different time zones. One of the time zones was East Asia, and the person there was sharing her screen. I was weirdly delighted to look at the bottom right corner of the screen, where the time and date were the next morning.

And just last night, after we here in Eastern time zone (aka Best Time Zone) rang in 2024, there was the montage of celebrations from around the world when their respective cities hit midnight, truly a multinational joining in of the tradition of counting the years since Jesus’s bris.

It’s fun living on a big sphere.

It’s also fun living in a time with the technology where such a meeting like I was in and such widespread showings of worldwide new year celebrations is possible.

Our species began in Africa so extremely long ago, and from there we all just sort of wandered off. Across Asia and Europe. Over Indonesia and into Australia. Across the Bering into the Americas. We developed new appearances, new ways of life, new mythologies. And so scattered around the globe, we were isolated into our own little cultures and societies, knowing little to nothing about anyone else.

But over the millennia, we got to wandering again. We built stronger societies and developed commerce and sought to trade and learn from (and conquer…) one another. And over the centuries, the innovative species we are, we developed better means of travel and communication.

And now today we can get most anywhere in the world in a matter of hours. No vitamin C-deficient months on the high seas. Just hop on a plane and have the flight attendant bring you some orange juice, and you’re there by dinner time.

We can talk to most anyone in the world at any time. Within my own lifetime, talking to someone across the country meant an expensive and staticky long distance call. Knowing what was going on in some far flung place came entirely filtered through the mainstream news and leaders. Now you can just post and chat online with people directly and get the real story and a new perspective.

Some of us can fly way up into outer space and gaze upon the whole big sphere at once from orbit. Not just way-too-wealthy assholes flaunting their penis-shaped rockets over multiple impoverished countries they could single-handedly feed, but also satellites sending our signals around the globe and a space station made possible by international scientific cooperation. A mere 120 years after the Wright brothers got their weird contraption off the ground in the Outer Banks.

All the once scattered and isolated cultures know about and interact and intermingle with each other now.

All that time ago, we wandered off. Now we are in the age where our species has come back together again.

Happy New Year.

Mmmm, Candy Hearts 17

February 14, 2022

SOUL MATE

A chalky sugary candy heart soul mate is probably better than a human one in a number of ways.

BE MINE

But I’m already surrounded by eight of them.

Is this all I post anymore? Meh. Let’s get to it.

Ever think about what pop culture tells us is or isn’t inherently attractive? Some ad for a dating app had, as an example of a “bad” date, some guy saying “let me tell you about my cat!” The ad implies this guy is a loser for wanting to talk cat rather than, well, the ad doesn’t really specify what actually is the “correct” thing to talk about. Also, for the record, and I’m definitely not alone on this, whether you’re a date or friend or coworker or whoever, yes, please DO tell me about your cat! And your dog and bird and fish and iguana. I want to hear about your pets. It’s probably the most delightful and inoffensive topic, and it tells a lot about a person. In fact, if you’re put off by pet talk, well, fuck off.

The other thing is back when Friends was on. It’s interesting watching the series and seeing as the show stated so authoritatively what traits or even interests were inherent turn offs. Or, at least, by sitcom dating standards, where someone could have ten sexual partners in a year and still be considered sexually unlucky. Specifically, Ross was pegged as undesirable because he was a paleontologist (despite getting married three times, because, again, sitcom logic), that anyone into science or who is geeky at all is Forever Alone. In one episode, he and Chandler are going over things about themselves that put girls off, and he mentions that “girls don’t like it when I talk about science”. And, like, dude, then you’re dating the wrong girls (and erasing female scientists). Seriously, he should have married Julie and told Rachel to fuck off, and she him, since they were presented as each other’s “lobster” and yet they did not actually get one another in any sense. Though, shit, could write a book about all the toxic messaging in that show.

But it’s not just a sitcom that, wow, is pushing twenty years since it ended (on my 21st birthday…). Certainly the Forever Alone geek remains an annoying trope. But that comes from the same thing. A geek is really just interested in something strongly. It’s part of who they are. If that’s inherently unattractive, then it follows being one’s whole self is what’s unattractive.

It’s of course a load of shit. Truth is, when you’re truly into someone, on the contrary, someone going on about their pets or their interest in dinosaurs or what have you, seeing them get all excited and animated about it, is goddamn spectacular. You don’t even have to be that interested in whatever it is. Just seeing someone you care about get into their zone is what’s amazing. If that’s a turn off, then what the fuck is wrong with you?

Of course, I haven’t even touched on other prevalent forms of wider society dictating attractiveness, namely setting beauty standards that require being thin and white. Still all bullshit. You’re dating a person, not a color or shape.

I like to think this has improved over the years, that despite bad pop culture messages about attractiveness, real people are seeing the bullshit for what it is. Maybe one could say I’m just here in my late thirties looking back at the messages absorbed when I was younger and maturing beyond it or something. But among those seeing through the bullshit are today’s teens. And I’m living today as well, if a bit older. So the shift is perhaps a maturation of society rather than the person.

My teenage years, after all, were when Friends was running.

Know what else has been around a while?

U R 2 CUTE

So does that mean the cute is doubled? Is it quantifiable?

IM SURE

Okay, great. So I used to have a big fluffy collie named- Hey, where are you going, candy heart?

Mmmm, Candy Hearts 16

February 14, 2021

“CALL ME”

Please don’t. I hate talking on the phone.

“SMILE”

I’ll smile when/if I goddamn want to, chauvinist candy heart.

“ROCK STAR”

I’ve lived past 27, though.

“LOVE YOU”

Getting to know me better will cure you of that.

Anyway, it’s Valentine’s Day, perhaps now the last holiday left to be affected by COVID, as we’ve almost come all the way around the sun from when all the lockdowns and restrictions began. Still a ways to go with all this. Times are very unpredictable.

Which leads me to my topic today.

People like to say “there’s someone for everyone” or “you’ll meet the right person”. This absolute certainty that somewhere in the future is the Perfect Partner.

Well, here’s the thing no one likes to point out. No, there is absolutely no guarantee of ever meeting some “perfect” person. Obviously. Hell, there’s no guarantee of even meeting and getting together with an adequate person.

And, no, it’s not because you necessarily did anything “wrong”. I mean, maybe you did. Everyone is flawed and dealbreaking stuff happens. But there’s all kinds of reasons. For some romance to happen, one person has to be into the other person AND the other person has to be into them AND there needs to be some degree of compatibility. Any one of these can be rare on its own, but for all three to happen? That’s downright miraculous. Far from a certainty.

There’s especially the issue when someone might still be figuring out they are gay or asexual or are otherwise trying to figure out something intrinsic about themself that could be affecting things. Which, again, definitely not a fault or a flaw. Just who one is.

The point is, sure, a lot of people manage that trifecta (or commonly enough just two out of three, with that lack of compatibility or mutuality coming back to bite sooner or later). But a lot don’t. There’s no guarantee someone will.

And that’s okay!

There’s more to life.

Maybe instead of empty assurances of some eventual happy ever after (and, you know, never take advice from someone who thinks those words ever apply to relationships!), stop acting like romantic pairing is the Most Important Thing. A requirement. A given. A guarantee. Because it’s not, and it doesn’t actually help anyone or anything to act like it is.

Life is complicated. We all are on many paths and get our joys and sorrows from all sorts of things. We can’t always anticipate the next step. Whatever will be will be.

Yadda, yadda, yadda…

Anyway, more candy hearts!

“MISS YOU”

I’m right here.

“DREAM”

How many seeming achievements of the aforementioned trifecta turn out to be that?

“LET’S HANG”

Not if we don’t get caught by the sheriff!

“NICE”

Okay, but if I eat a different heart, are you just going to bitch about being “friend zoned” or some shit?

“LAUGH”

Oh, I already am.